


Great Truths

by Rina (rinadoll)



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Courtship, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Truth or Dare, Wooing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-22 22:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8303488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinadoll/pseuds/Rina
Summary: “I knew you’d fall for me,” Holtz whispered into her ear before following Patty to the car.The thing was, Holtz maybe wasn’t wrong. A story of truths, dares and inventions.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pasiphile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pasiphile/gifts).



> Pasiphile, I hope this is to your liking! I think we both loved the same things about Holtz, so hopefully that came through. :)

Erin was used to awkward. If there was a signal, she was going to misread it. If there was an uncomfortable situation, she’d probably caused it. And apparently, if there’s a secret door that will open as she leans on it while pretending to be cool after a bust, well, she’s going to find it and prove exactly how cool she isn’t.

(She’d really been hoping that she’d be less awkward after leaving uptight academia for the world of ghostbusting, but that did not appear to be the case.)

Naturally, the secret room had had no apparent exits except a tunnel that turned out to be a slide. And of course, now she was in another room with no apparent exit, except the slide.

Once she’d ascertained that climbing the slide was not going to be successful, she settled in to wait. Holtz and the homeowner’s son had seen her disappear, so surely someone would come rescue her soon.

Fifteen minutes passed. Her watch, at least, fit under her jumpsuit, though her phone was on the other side. As hard as slime was to get out of her cracks, she couldn’t bear to think what it would do her phone. Her beloved phone, which held books and games and other ways of occupying her time. Unlike her watch.

At least no one had gotten slimed this time. This could have been worse.

She heard a long whoop and Holtzmann slid into the room headfirst. “Hey, baby, miss me?” she waggled her eyebrows and hopped to her feet.

“Holtz! Thank God. How do we get out of here?” Erin leaped up.

“No clue, sweet my coz,” Holtz said. “Everyone’s pretty boggled. This family's never used the panic rooms, they're too persnickety. Our fair host is off to the bank to see if the original house plans are still in their safety deposit box.”

“We’re stuck here?” Erin asked, horrified. “And you knew that? Why did you come?”

“How else were you going to know what was going on?” Holtz asked. “Also, I knew you were missing your phone.” She tossed it over. “If you hadn’t gone joyriding down here, we might have made it out. But you did, so I did, and I figured you’d want company down here anyway.”

She held up her phone. “Dance party?”

“What? No, Holtz. No dancing.” Erin shook her head. “I can’t believe we’re stuck down here. I can’t believe you followed me to be deliberately stuck down here.”

“Hey, it’s fine, it’s not like we were going to leave without you or anything,” Holtz said. “Abs and Patty have company, and you were all by your lonesome. Couldn’t be much fun.”

“Well, thank you,” Erin said. “I really am glad to see you. I’m sorry I messed up your rescue by going down here.”

“Eh, it was a big if, anyway,” Holtz said, adjusting her goggles. “It took a lot of trial and error to recreate your moves, not sure pretty boy was paying enough attention to imitate us. We might have been stuck anyway. That door moves fast.” She held up her phone again. “Dance party now?”

“No,” Erin said, sliding back down to the floor. “No dancing.”

Holtz sighed and sat down next to her, legs splayed. “Then what would you like to do with our newly free time?”

“I don’t know.” Erin poked at her phone. No reception, of course. She slipped it into a pocket to focus on Holtz. “Where did you grow up?”

“Ah, intriguing. What I’m hearing you say, Dr. Gilbert, is that you want to play Truth or Dare. I can support that. I’ll start.” She clapped her hands.

“What? Holtz, no, I was starting a conversation,” Erin said, confused. “Just, like...talking.”

“But it’s so much more fun my way,” Holtz said. “Truth or dare?”

Erin shook her head, afraid of what kind of dares Holtz could come up with in an empty room. “Truth.”

“Let’s see. Who would you most like to be stuck on a deserted island with?”

Erin barely needed to think about that. “You,” she said, and Holtz looked surprised. “Who else would rescue me when I did stupid things? And engineer our escape? That can’t be understated in a deserted island partner.” She smiled at Holtz, who preened at her. “Truth or dare?”

“Hit me with the truth.”

“Where did you grow up?” Erin asked again.

“Chicago,” Holtz said. “Hyde Park, specifically.”

Erin cocked her head. “Isn’t there a science museum there?”

“Science and Industry,” Holtz said, bouncing her knees. “I walked there at least once a week for years. Staff knew me better than my parents did, I think. Truth or dare?”

They went back and forth for almost an hour, building from formative science experiences and slowly getting more personal. Holtz gave up on dares when Erin insisted on daring her to answer questions. (“You’re missing the point.” “Empty room, Holtz.”) So Erin learned about Holtz’s parents--young, rich, not fond of the weird child that had forced their marriage--and education--after homeschooling, she’d taken most of her high school classes at University of Chicago, thanks to the Lab School program.

In return, she blushed as she explained that her parents had paid neighbors to be her friend as a kid, which she’d taken years to learn, and that her first kiss had been at 19, with Abby's roommate Karen. Holtzmann had looked a little too interested in that information, so she’d nervously switched to dares to avoid any follow up questions. As it turned out, she couldn’t do a cartwheel anymore but she still knew the moves to both the Macarena and The Ketchup Song. Holtz clapped, whistled and didn’t seem to think that brain space was as wasted as she did.

She was beet red from laughter and second hand embarrassment at Holtz’s first and last foray into the soft sciences, and forgot that she’d resolved to stick to dares.

“Best and worst parts of being called Ghost Girl. Aaaaaaaaaaand…..go.”

That sobered her up fast. The words didn’t have the same power to hurt her like they had for so long, but it was still a sore subject. Especially the worst parts--she never told anyone about that. Abby had always liked her parents, and her therapists had been on their side. She met Holtz’s expectant gaze. “I don’t--let’s just turn this into a dance party. Is that okay?”

“Hell yeah,” Holtz cheered, leaping to her feet and pulling Erin up with her.

It was on their third song, Cecilia, that Holtz grabbed Erin, pulled her close, twirled her out and a door swung open.

“Thundercats are goooooo,” Holtz hollered, keeping a tight hold on Erin’s hand as they launched themselves through the opening and onto the grass of the backyard before they missed their chance.

They landed tangled together, Erin half on top, music still playing from Holtz’s phone. “Told you we should have started with the dance party,” Holtz said smugly.

Erin rolled her eyes, and caught the look in Holtz’s eye as she realized their positions. “We should go find the others,” she said quickly, jumping up. “Let them know we don’t need a rescue after all.” She stalked up the hill towards the front of the house, eager to stay ahead of any comment Holtz could come up with.

She mostly succeeded.

“I knew you’d fall for me,” Holtz whispered into her ear before following Patty to the car.

*****  
The thing was, Holtz maybe wasn’t wrong.

At least, that was the premise Erin was working from, after waking up five straight days dreaming about Holtz and touching her in some manner. Even though they were only dreams, Erin was feeling awkward and guilty. She had never woken up thinking about Kevin; that was all driven by her hormones, with no assistance from her brain. It felt invasive to think of Holtz that way, even if she wasn’t trying to, and she tried to give Holtzmann the space her dreams weren’t.

The more distance she put between them, though, the more Holtz would seek her out. And she hadn’t stopped playing Truth or Dare--in her own way. Erin would be in the kitchen making lunch, and Holtz would hop up on the counter next to her. “Truth: Nothing is better than a grilled cheese sandwich. But if it lacks a tomato, it doesn’t deserve to be eaten.” “Truth: I’ve never toasted an Eggo because I’m too lazy to pull out the toaster. I eat them frozen.”

Erin didn’t even want to think about the dares Holtz gave herself--trying experimental weapons on a bust, using the blowtorch in new ways without exploding the building--and then dragging Erin along to watch. She succeeded, of course. Holtzy always succeeded, at least enough to keep them all in one piece. (Thank God.)

She wished she knew if Holtz was doing it to push her buttons and tease her or because she liked spending time with her. It might make figuring this out easier.

No, she was losing focus. She leaned back and took a sip of her beer. She’d left work early, cocooned herself on the couch with notebooks and pens, and was determined to figure this out. It had been too long of a week.

The question to be answered was if she’d fallen for Holtz, not the reverse, and she wrote it down. Holtz was brilliant, bizarre and beautiful, and often completely beyond Erin’s comprehension. She flaunted social etiquette but never made anyone feel bad. She draped herself over everyone, then used her rapid fire words and silly voices to create distance. She was a walking paradox. How to solve that?

There was a key to her, Erin was sure of it, but that was a more advanced question. She had to focus on her own reactions. Once she knew that, she could figure out how she wanted to handle it.

God, emotions were hard. Everything was jumbled in her brain, and she’d never liked that feeling. She could handle being attracted to someone, usually someone totally out of her league, but actual feelings were way more complicated. It had been so much easier to just be a mirror, giving people what they wanted and expected. That was how she ended up with all of her boyfriends, but she had been trying really hard to break that habit. Her new team were good models for being authentic, and she wanted badly to rise to their standard.

She finished her beer and picked up her favorite pen. She started writing down all everything she could remember about Holtz and their interactions and looked for connections. She scribbled over a dozen pages, annotating and linking, then tried to summarize what came up the most.

Looking at the analysis, it was pretty clear. It had been pretty clear from the first page, really, but it was important to be thorough. She definitely, without doubt, had fallen for Jillian Holtzmann. Real actual emotions were involved, besides the attraction.

Okay. Erin relaxed, finally. She could work with this. She pulled out a new notebook and grabbed her laptop. She would do this right. She'd research and come up with good, Holtz-appropriate ways to show how she felt, and see if Holtz responded to her any differently. Then she’d know where they stood.

*****  
She climbed up the station steps the next morning, nervously excited.

“Hey, so, your desk caught a little bit on fire again,” Holtzmann greeted her. Her glasses were hanging from one ear and she was spinning the strap of her overalls, which was singed.

Erin was briefly torn between her responses: Holtz’s safety, her work’s safety, Holtz’s abs in the black crop top. She settled on, “Anything permanently destroyed?”

Holtz raised her eyebrow. “Not fully,” she said. “You can probably reconstruct the missing bits. And the new swatty zapper was just a prototype, anyway. No biggie. Back to the drawing board. Once I pick up a new one, anyway. Earlier fire.” She shrugged.

Erin bit her tongue to avoid her customary safety scold and nodded. “Right, right. Well, better get to work then,” she said, swinging the paper bag she carried with her purse.

Holtz’s eyes went to it, as she’d hoped. “Whatcha got there?” she asked.

“Oh, I stopped by that Scandinavian bakery you talked about last week, picked up some lefse, a kringle,” she said, casually.

“Score!” Holtz said happily, reaching for the bag.

Erin held it out of her grasp. "I don't know, Holtz. I mean, you did set my work on fire. Again. Do you really deserve any?” She tried to keep her tone light and teasing, like the articles said.

“Aw, baby, don’t be like that,” Holtz said, pouting. “What if I promise to be very, very good?” she asked, stepping closer. Her voice was low and Erin was thrown and turned on in equal measure.

“We'll just have to see, I guess,” she said, and fled upstairs. Not bad for a first go through, she thought.

But not great, either. She quickly figured out that she should have shared the food instead of running away, because what she’d actually done was give Holtz a challenge. And Holtz loved challenges. All morning, she was treated to special dances, and a lot of hand-on-chin stares. She’d never been the focus of Holtz’s intensity for this long before. It was unnerving. And fantastic. And scary. She was pretty sure her face was permanently red now.

She’d bought the damn food for Holtzmann anyway, and now she wasn’t sure how to break the stalemate she’d accidentally created. Was the food meant to be a reward now? For what? She’d only wanted to make Holtz happy, but it had spiraled so far out of control.

She left the last bits of lefse and kringle, which she’d hidden from the others, on Holtz’s desk as she left that night.

*****  
Holtz didn't mention the snacks the next day, which was probably for the best. Erin still felt bad about withholding her favorites, and resolved to make up for it. Maybe lunch.

The morning got away from them, though, so Erin ended up detouring to Holtz's favorite tea shop during her afternoon break, the only one that served the iced wine dragon tea she liked so much.

She carried their cups up the stairs and found Holtz mumbling at her tablet in the lab. She set a cup down next to her and squinted at the screen. Coulomb opposite the Military Academy, Ampere opposite the Trocadero. "Scientists on the Eiffel tower?" she asked. "What are you watching?"

"Only the best and hardest British panel quiz show ever," Holtz said, saluting her with the tea. "Only Connect. And you just kicked semi-finalist ass. Put it here," she said, holding up her other hand.

Erin slapped it, as both teams on screen missed the answer. It was specifically the scientists and which side of the tower they were on, but Holtz said she'd have gotten points anyway.

"Pop a squat," she said, patting her lap. "Or grab a chair," she said as Erin stammered. "Whichever. But you're on my team now, so don't go far.”

She paused the episode and explained the rounds to Erin. "It's all about finding patterns, even in seeming disparate things," she said. "Helps prime the old noggin when I get stuck. The answer is always there if I can just look at it the right way." She shrugged. "It also helps to shake loose a lot of random trivia."

"I take walks," Erin said. "To get a new perspective. But that lacks trivia and competition, so let’s do this." She rubbed her hands together and grinned. She loved a good competition.

"As you wish," Holtz said, grinning back and hitting play.

They ended up finishing the season and spent the entire night on a tear, bouncing ideas off each other until Erin’s voice was hoarse. Holtz got her swatty zapper ready for testing and Erin helped with the new micro pack prototype modifications, plus Holtz gave Erin the push to finish the math for a next level trap. It was the most invigorating night Erin had had in ages. Holtz worked on an entirely different level from anyone she'd ever met and she would never stop being impressed by her brain.

Erin finally crashed on the couch around 4 in the morning. She woke up at 9, tucked under a blanket, with Holtz on the floor, curled up around the pack prototype and snoring. She turned on her side, smiling down at her.

Best night ever.

*****  
Better yet, it set the tone going forward--Erin was on a high from how well things had gone. They’d shared more dances over the next few days, and Holtz appreciated the gifts she’d been bringing. Erin had tried to increase their number of casual touches, and Holtz was reciprocating, hanging on her almost as much as she did Patty and Abby. She was also still looking for Erin to offer truths and dares, and Erin was still a little giddy from their walk to pick lunch up a few hours earlier. The outcome was looking positive, but this phase couldn't last forever.

So now where was she supposed to take it? She thought Holtz was responding to her differently, which had been her goal, but was she ready to really find out Holtz’s feelings? She eyed her colleagues, who were packing up for the night. Was it too cowardly to see what information she could get from Abby or Patty first?

Probably. She doodled little ghosts on her notepad. They’d had a good time on the walk. Maybe the next step was more time, just the two of them, to see if the wooing held.

Yes. That felt right. It would give her more information so that things didn’t get awkward between them if she was wrong, but would make things smoother if she was right.

She was debating the best way to orchestrate a reason for them to go out when Holtz slid down the firepole. She’d changed into one of her 30s styled outfits: grey high waisted, wide-legged pants, dark red vest, saddle shoes, scarf wrapped in her hair. She looked dapper as hell, and Erin couldn't help smiling at her.

“Looking good, baby,” Patty said, pulling on her jacket. “Why the costume change? I didn’t smell anything on fire.”

“Only thing on fire is my keen fashion sense,” Holtz said cheerfully. “Got myself some dinner plans tonight." She shimmied a little dance.

Erin felt an icy cold rush over her. She tried to keep the smile on her face as Patty nodded approvingly. "Good on you, Holtzy," she said. "Someone special?"

"Oh, I think she has potential," Holtz said. "Come on, I'll walk you to the subway, spin you the deets. Night, ladies,” she said, throwing Erin her two fingered salute before taking Patty’s arm.

“Night,” Erin said, smile still pasted strong, even as she ached.

"What are you up to tonight?" Abby asked her. "Er? You okay?"

She was not. She looked so crushed after Holtz left that Abby whisked her off to their favorite bar, where everything came out as she drowned her sorrows in alcohol.

“What do you mean you were flirting?” Abby asked, bewildered. “We saw you with Kevin, we know what it looks like. You didn’t do anything like that.”

Erin waved her hand. “That was Kevin. He’s different, you know. He’s…” she groped for the right way to explain.

“The sexiest man you’ve ever seen?” Abby guessed.

“Dumber than a box of rocks,” Erin said. Abby nodded. “You can’t do subtle with him. You have to spell it out.”

“You drank the coffee he spit out, after he walked away,” Abby reminded her. “You spelled nothing for him there.”

“I finished Holtz’s sandwich once,” Erin said, sheepishly.

“Goddamnit, Erin, you are not twelve years old anymore! Stop doing that,” Abby said, making a face.

“I know, I know,” she said. “But my point is, Holtz is nothing like Kevin. I didn’t think I needed to be so obvious to get her attention. I adjusted my parameters accordingly.”

“You’ve always had her attention,” Abby said. “But for as overboard as you went with Kevin, and Erin, honey. You went way too overboard with Kevin. But for all of that, you went way underboard with Holtz. There was no indication you were returning her flirting. Honestly, nothing changed.”

“I was wooing her,” Erin said, defensively. “She’s better at flirting than I am, that didn't go well, so I tried other ways. Like when I brought her that scrap metal. She loved that.”

“Flowers might have made it clearer,” Abby said. “Scrap metal is about her job, not how you feel about her.”

“What’s Holtzy going to do with flowers?” Erin asked. “She’d incinerate them or the radiation would kill them. She loves science and her job, so I brought her what she’d most appreciate.”

“Okay, I see where you took that,” Abby said. “But maybe that’s for after you’ve established what you’re doing. First romance, then scrap metal.”

“Fair,” Erin said, considering. Maybe metal flowers. “But it wasn’t just that. I made her lunch--”

“Patty makes her eat all the time, and Patty isn’t wooing her,” Abby pointed out.

“Patty orders her food. I made her food,” Erin said. “Her favorites.”

“Which you then ate?” Abby asked.

“I was cleaning up, she had some left, stop interrupting me,” Erin said, frustrated. “I have been trying very hard to show Holtz how much she means to me.”

“Okay,” Abby said, patting her hand. “I believe you. But this experiment has not been a success. Re-evaluate it. Go in a new direction. Maybe use your words.”

"But she's on a date," Erin said, miserably.

"Oh. Right." Abby considered that as Erin drained her drink. "Well, screw this new lady. You were here first. Make your move. Your very obvious move."

She thought she’d been obvious, it had often felt like she was being obvious, but fine. She’d try again.

*****  
Finding the right words was impossible. There were too many options, too many variables for predicting which would work best. She’d spent most of the night running scenarios in her head, until she finally fell asleep. None of them had seemed right.

She'd hidden herself in the third floor lab to give herself some space, but it mostly just felt lonely, away from Holtz and the music she could still faintly hear. She made her way down the stairs and as she approached the lab, she remembered Holtz’s last truth question in the panic room.

She quietly entered and leaned onto the desk, watching Holtz work.

“Like what you see?” Holtz asked, not looking up.

“Truth: the best part of being Ghost Girl was Abby, until I met you and Patty. Then it was this.”

Holtz set down the wires and faced her.

“Worst, though.” She thought of all the hell the nickname had put her through and stared down at her hands. “Worst is that I didn’t tell anyone but my parents that I saw the ghost,” she said, finally.

“Whaaat?” Holtz asked. “But you said everyone knew.”

“They did,” Erin said. “I knew better than to mention it. I was scared, not stupid. My parents told all their friends, who told their kids, or they overheard, or something. And that's when it all started.”

“That was a dick move,” Holtz said after a beat, resting her hand on Erin’s arm, and Erin huffed a laugh.

“Yeah. It was.”

“Do you think they did it on purpose?” Holtz asked, considering. “You know, to peer pressure you out of believing what you saw.”

Erin inhaled sharply. She’d never--they wouldn’t have-- She felt vaguely nauseated. “That’s entirely possible,” she managed. Likely, even. It was their style. “I’m going to pretend that you didn’t say that, though, because our monthly call is tomorrow and I need to get through it.”

Holtz said something, squeezing her arm, but Erin’s ears were buzzing. So much for the right words. Now Holtz was frowning at her. She'd try again later, maybe a dance party would go better, but for now she needed some quiet to pick herself back up again.

"I'm sorry, I totally forgot to save my document. Upstairs. That I was working on." Lame lame lame. "I'm just going to go--do that." She fled back to the third floor.

Except just as she sat down, Holtz appeared in the doorway. Erin could feel her eyes on her, but didn’t look up until Holtz sang out her name.

“Does Erin need a hug?” she asked in the sing-song baby voice that teetered on the edge between cute and annoying. Right now, it grated on Erin’s already raw nerves.

“I’m fine, Holtz, I just need to get some work done,” Erin said. She reached for her notebook stack and knocked them to the floor. Fantastic.

“Come on, let Holtzy give you a hug,” Holtz continued, arms stretched wide as she creeped up to the desk. “Holtzy wants to give you a hug.”

“Holtz, please,” she snapped angrily. She regretted it when Holtz stiffened at her tone and stepped back, eyes down. Erin touched her arm and tried to soften her voice. “I appreciate the thought, though.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I shouldn’t--sorry.” She beelined for the door and Erin could hear Patty calling after her as she clattered down the stairs.

Damn it. She was used to dealing with things on her own, that was all. It was overwhelming to have Holtz there, in all her Holtzness. She would apologize later. After she’d finished properly distracting herself with some work.

Except that didn't seem to be happening. The pages were blurring and the math was meaningless as she stared down at her notebook. She kept seeing Holtz's stricken face as she ran off, hearing the taunts that had haunted her childhood, thinking about her parents maybe being responsible for that. 

She rubbed at her eyes and tried to focus. There wasn't anything she could do about the last two, they were in the past. She could fix Holtz, though. She just had to clear her head first. Work had always helped her before.

She'd made three basic mistakes in her math before she dropped her pencil and lowered her head to the table. She drew the line at the voice, but maybe she could really use that hug after all. For once, she didn't want to be alone.

Could she ask for it, though? After hurting Holtz like that? She was still debating going in search of her when Holtz blew back in, balancing a plate on her hand.

“This is for you,” she said, thrusting it at Erin. It was filled with snails made from apples, celery and peanut butter. “Our nanny used to make it for me when I was upset.”

“Oh, Holtzy,” Erin said, surprised and more than a little touched. “Thank you.” She picked one up and took a bite. Hmm.

“It’s better in component parts,” Holtz said, and Erin separated the fruit from veg.

Holtz rocked back on her heels. “I’m really sorry I upset you, twice, and I’m really sorry your parents are dicks.”

Erin sighed, setting down her snail pieces. “No, I’m sorry that I yelled at you. You didn’t do anything wrong, they did. But they aren’t dicks.”

“Are you sure about that?” Holtz asked, doubtfully. “Evidence don’t lie, baby.”

“It’d be easier if they were,” Erin admitted. “They are perfectly lovely people, well-liked by many. They’ve only ever wanted me to be okay. They just wanted it their way, so they did what they thought was best instead of what I needed.”

“What do you need now?” Holtz asked.

“Is the hug still on offer?” Erin asked, nervously.

Holtz’s face lit up with a grin and she flung herself onto Erin’s lap. “Always,” she said cheerfully, wrapping her arms around Erin and snuggling in.

Erin’s brain briefly short-circuited. She hesitantly returned the hug, winding her arms around Holtz’s waist. Holtz started playing with her hair, alternately petting and twisting the ends. She slowly relaxed as she breathed in the scent of Holtz, the tang of metal and motor oil and a bit of musky cinnamon. Everything was Holtz. It was warm, and safe, and wonderful.

“You’re wonderful,” Erin said, softly, eyes closed.

“Naturally,” Holtz said, and Erin could feel her smile. “Feel free to tell me exactly how wonderful, though.”

Erin bit her lip. “I’ve spent the last week trying to show you how much I like you,” she blurted out.

“Like me?” Holtz’s voice sounded uneven and Erin tensed again. “Or like me like me.”

Erin couldn’t help her snort of laughter. “Are you twelve?” She realized, as she asked, that Abby would call that a hypocritical question.

“Do you have a better way of expressing it?” Holtz countered.

Her face was still buried in Erin’s neck, and it was warming up. Erin felt a little bolder and squeezed Holtz’s waist. “Like you like you.”

“Boo-yeah!” Holtz cheered, flinging her arms up. Erin flinched in surprise, trying to steady her. “I called it.” She grinned, dimples flashing in her still pink cheeks. “Right back at you, bee-tee-dubs.”

“You called it?” Erin exclaimed. “You knew? You went out on a date! Not with me!”

“No, I didn’t,” Holtz said smugly. “My date was me. I just wanted to see how you’d react. But you didn’t really, so I thought I’d read the signals wrong.”

“I was really upset,” Erin said, shaking her head. “Abby noticed and took me out for drinks. Told me to use my words.”

“Patty told me to stop making dumb-ass decisions,” Holtz said. “Good thing one of us knows how to listen.”

“Did Patty give you any other advice? Because all I got was “words,” and I don’t seem to be too good at those.” She hesitated and admitted, “I don’t want to screw this up.”

“Words, who needs them,” Holtz scoffed. “We’re on the same page. Oh! I have something for you.”

She hopped up and took Erin’s hand, dragging her down to the second floor lab. “I made this with some of your scrap metal,” she said proudly.

Erin took the chunky necklace and smiled. Holtz had hammered out her very own Screw U necklace. “I love it, Holtzy, thank you.”

“Wait,” Holtz said. “Look.” She took it back and tugged on the U, slipping off a casing lined with teeth Erin had seen in an earlier trap. “It’s a boomerang. Toss it at the ghost,” she said, miming, “the ghost goes poof, and it comes right back to you. Because, boomerang.”

“Wow,” Erin said, impressed. “That is--the oddest and most wonderful gift I’ve ever received.” Holtz beamed at her. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, milady,” Holtz said, handing it back. “There’s a non-weaponized one for you, too, just in case.”

“In case?” Erin asked, suddenly nervous.

“Swap it out if your heart starts slowing down too much,” Holtz said, waving her hand. “Or if your hair starts to fall out. Maybe only wear it half an hour at a time to start.”

“Right,” Erin said, carefully setting it down. “One for busting, one for daywear. Got it.”

"That works, too,” Holtz said. “That was my grand declaration, by the way.” She frowned and took a deep breath. “I knew what you were saying this week, or at least I hoped I did. You are the Marie to my Pierre, the Lady to my Tramp, the Mulder to my Scully. Or maybe the Scully to my Mulder, I’m flexible.” Her words raced, and so did Erin’s heart. “But together, we are bigger than the sum of our parts and I’ve thought you were wonderful, too, and we can finally kiss now, right?”

“Right,” Erin said, nerves and joy warring in her stomach, and Holtz leaned in. It was a gentle touch, softer than she ever would have thought from Holtz. She brought her hand up to rest on Holtz's neck, and Holtz stepped closer until Erin thought she'd melt right into her.

One of Holtz's arms went around her waist while the other slid into her hair, and the kiss surged from gentle to intense. Erin was dizzy with the proximity, body warm and tingling everywhere they touched. She clung to Holtz, who swept her lips open, and it was better than in any of her dreams, because it was real.

Holtz tugged at her hair and broke the kiss. They stared each other, breathing heavily. “Well, that's happening again,” Holtz said, eyes wide, and Erin agreed. It was already her best, favorite, and least awkward kiss, and it was just their first. She couldn’t wait to see what came next. 

So she leaned in and found out.


End file.
